Emma Pearson - The Goblet of Fire
by Emmote
Summary: The fourth book in Emma Pearson's story. This story is written to introduce an OC and remains fairly faithful to canon. If that, or vampires, aren't your thing, perhaps you might want to avoid. This isn't written to be a standalone book, so I recommend you read Emma Pearson - The Philosopher's Stone first, and work your way through the rest.
1. Chapter 1 - Home

_Hello everyone, welcome back to Emma's story._

_I'm very sorry it's taken me so long to make progress on the fourth book. I can only hope it was worth the wait._

_As I say, it is the fourth book, so if you're new to this story, you should really go to my profile and start from the beginning._

_Anyway, here you are._

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Home**

When Emma and Hermione got back to the Grangers, they fell back into their usual patterns, but first they spent a day or two talking about what had happened over the year. Most of it they'd already told by way of letters they'd both sent back throughout the year, however, there were a number of things too delicate to mention.

The main topic was the Time Turner. McGonagall had made Hermione promise not to tell anyone, and that included her parents, but she hated keeping things from them. She explained how she used it to get to all of her lessons, and Richard was particularly interested in it, being a big fan of Science-Fiction.

When Emma and Hermione started talking about how they used it to rescue Buckbeak and Sirius, that's when the questions came. Normally Richard and Jane would just listen intently, occasionally chiming in with the odd thought, but now they were eager.

'Wouldn't that have caused a paradox?' asked Richard.

'Sirius? That criminal? Rescue him?' stuttered Jane, concerned.

'No, Dad.' said Hermione, a little put out at being interrupted. 'It can, if used improperly, and the consequences are not pleasant, but we didn't change anything, because we'd already done it, if you follow? And yes, Mum, we'll explain.'

Together they told the story of the last day of their exams, when they thought they'd witnessed Buckbeak being executed, and then what followed in the Shrieking Shack. As engrossed as the adults were, the girls could see the worry on their faces when they were, yet again, listening to them putting themselves in danger. It got particularly bad when they described Remus turning and going feral. The Dementors weren't taken so well either.

Richard and Jane were about to complain when the story got to the hospital wing, when they thought it was over, until the girls kept going and talked about travelling back in time and all that transpired there. Of course, that included Emma nearly dying again, but, curiously for Emma, Hermione didn't even give a brief mention of getting Emma to bite her. Emma was still guilty about that, so she kept silent on the subject too.

When they were finally done, Richard and Jane were understandably shaken. It worried them, not just by what the girls had done and how many different ways they both could have died, but by how nonchalant the two of them were about the ordeal. Of course, they knew Emma was a vampire, and she'd died before, multiple times even, so her sense of danger would be naturally skewed, but Hermione was behaving the same way. They had no risk aversion and the problem was that this kind of thing just kept happening, year after year. To the adults, it was yet another reason to blame the school, and again, like the previous year, they tried to persuade the girls to move. Hermione had mentioned Beauxbatons while they were in France, and they wondered if perhaps they could go there instead.

'But neither of us can speak French...' complained Emma.

'I'm sure the two of you could learn it before you go back to school if you put your minds to it.' said Jane, softly.

'And all our friends are at Hogwarts...' said Hermione, in the same tone as Emma.

'Harry and Ron?' asked Richard.

'Yes,' replied Hermione. 'and they wouldn't last a week without us.'

'They could go too?' suggested Jane.

'There's also Ginny, and Luna.' sulked Emma, realising how few real friends the two of them actually had.

'We can't leave Hogwarts.' said Hermione.

The discussion lasted for a short while longer, but the girls refused to even consider the idea, and so Richard and Jane eventually gave up, again.

'Alright, alright.' said Richard, calmly, as tempers were beginning to flare up. 'We're worried about you both, that's all. We just want to keep you safe.'

Things were a little strained over the next couple of days. The girls focused on their homework and the adults mostly kept out of their way, though Jane wasn't quite willing to leave the topic of the previous year alone. She asked them about how they did on their exams, happy they'd both done so well, and also wondered about Remus.

'So, he's a werewolf?' she asked, cautiously.

'Mmhmm.' mumbled Emma, a quill in her mouth as she was moving some books around on the table, then taking it out. 'He was turned before he went to Hogwarts.'

'Like you then.' smiled Jane. 'I can see why you liked him.'

'It wasn't just that, Mum.' said Hermione. 'He was one of the best teachers we've ever had. He was kind, knowledgable, and tried to get everyone to participate, even Emma.'

Hermione grinned at Emma wickedly, who frowned back, remembering, before Hermione's expression changed, and she looked troubled too.

'He really didn't deserve to leave, just because of one slip-up.' finished Hermione.

'Well, I can understand why other parents wouldn't want him there, if there's a chance-'

'Mum!' growled Hermione, glaring.

'Don't worry, I won't bring that up again. You've both made your feelings known, and you're old enough to be making decisions for yourselves, after all, you'll be fifteen in a few months.' said Jane, diplomatically, smiling at them. 'If nothing else, I can trust the two of you to protect each other. You're closer than I ever was with any of my friends at school.'

With that comment, Emma, who was smiling too, immediately blushed and looked away, suddenly very interested in her homework again. Of course, her subconscious, the part of herself she'd been calling the vampire, took that moment to remind her of the time she nearly kissed Hermione, and how much she undeniably loved her. What was also obvious, painful and upsetting, was that she couldn't actually tell Hermione that. She knew she couldn't because Hermione didn't feel the same way, and doing so would irreparably destroy their friendship. She couldn't risk that happening again. What they had now was far better than that.

Jane, however, knew otherwise, because she could see the both of them. Just as Emma was looking away, blushing, so too was Hermione. Jane had known how Emma felt since the last holidays, even if the little vampire hadn't realised it herself. It had been as plain as day in her body language. Hermione, however, had been a different story, and Jane hadn't been as sure about her last year, whereas now, it couldn't be more obvious, and yet, the two of them were utterly oblivious. She grinned widely at them for a moment and shook her head.

'You two really are as bad as each other.' chuckled Jane.

'You always say that.' complained Hermione, and Emma nodded in agreement.

'Because it's true.' said Jane.

'What did we do this time?' asked Hermione.

She was clearly aggravated and getting impatient. Emma felt the same, and would have asked too, but she didn't feel comfortable saying anything. Richard and Jane weren't her parents and generously let her stay with them, so she often felt that speaking up would be rude.

'I can't tell you that.' said Jane, her cheery mood becoming a bit more serious.

'Why not?' asked Hermione, confused and frustrated.

'You're just going to have to work it out for yourselves.' replied Jane, with a bit of finality.

Hermione frowned deeply and turned to Emma, who looked back, both their awkwardness replaced by bewilderment. They had no idea what Jane was talking about.

'Mum...' sighed Hermione, looking back down at her unfinished essay, lost for words.

'Trouble in paradise?' asked Richard, as he stepped into the kitchen-dining room moments later, sensing the tension in the room.

'Pardon?' asked Emma, finally speaking up.

'Never mind.' chuckled Richard, and he continued into the room to make some tea.

'Ugghhh...' huffed Hermione, really angry now. 'Whatever it is you're both up to, please, stop it! We're _trying_ to work here!'

The adults chuckled a little at the girls who were both really flustered. Jane agreed to let it go, and that was the last comment from her about it, but Richard didn't agree to anything. He continued to make off-hand remarks whenever he entered the kitchen and laughed to himself, and both the girls tried their best to ignore him.

Over the first two weeks of the holidays, they both studiously worked during the mornings and afternoon, doing very little else. They did work on one other thing during that time that wasn't school related though. As Remus had suggested, they made a letter for Sirius, asking him for details about what it would take to become an Animagus, and they sent it off with Nephthys. During the evenings, however, they usually relaxed in the living room, either watching the television or reading.

It was when they were finishing up one afternoon, getting ready to set the table for dinner, that two owls flew in through the open kitchen door. One of them was carrying two letters from school, and the other, a rather large pouch of money, quite a bit larger than the one Emma would normally get.

The letters were the usual list of supplies; potion ingredients, parchment, ink, cauldron, robes, new books, etc.. The last item on the list, however, was very curious.

'Dress robes?' asked Emma. 'Like... formal wear?'

'I guess so...' replied Hermione. 'I wonder why we'll need them...'

Emma shrugged and shook her head. The only thing she could think of was a dance, but that was only because when she thought of dress robes, she imagined those Victorian-style ball gowns from her dance lessons leaflet. It seemed unlikely to her that that would be why they needed them, so she didn't mention it.

Emma's letter also contained a note about the increased amount of money she now had. A part of it seemed to be a small amount to cover the cost of some second-hand dress robes, but the rest was from Madam Pomfrey. It seemed that she had managed to persuade Professor McGonagall to pay Emma for her work in the hospital wing over the last year. It wasn't a great deal of money, but it was certainly more than she'd ever gotten before. Of course, Emma tried to give some of it to the Granger's, after all, they'd already given her so much already, but they wouldn't accept it.

When they went to Diagon Alley the next day to spend their money and buy all their supplies, it turned out that Emma's image of dress robes wasn't far off reality. They made their way to the Leaky Cauldron and through, like every year, and walked down the alley to the bank. Emma and Hermione walked ahead of the adults, looking into each shop as they walked by, thrilled to be back. Their excitement was brought short, however, when Jane's voice spoke up behind them.

'When did that start?' she asked, smiling.

'When did what start?' asked Emma, confused.

'That.' said Jane, pointing at Emma and Hermione's hands, held together.

'Oh!' said the two of them, simultaneously, letting go quickly and looking very embarrassed.

'It... uhm...' stuttered Hermione. 'Last year, when Emma was... having trouble... with hunting.'

Emma nodded and shrank inward a little, guilty, reminded of how bad she'd been, and how often Hermione had to help her by supplementing her diet, but the adults were still smiling.

'But she's not having trouble now?' asked Richard, turning to Emma. 'Are you?'

'Not now, no.' said Hermione, after a few seconds, when it was clear Emma wasn't going to reply.

'So...?' added Jane, looking back and forth between the two of them.

'Force of habit.' shrugged Hermione, dubiously.

'Okay.' said Jane, innocently, as she and Richard were grinning together.

The two of them seemed to be in on their little inside joke again, annoying the girls, who, as a result, did not hold hands again for the rest of the day.

They were forced away from their awkward thoughts, however, when they had finished in the bank and made their way inside Gladrag's Wizardwear. They'd been to the shop in Hogsmeade, but that was a pale imitation of the one in Diagon Alley. This one was a very large shop with all manner of clothes. There were a myriad of socks, gloves, scarves, shoes and robes, among many others. They took quite a while walking through the shop, where Richard looked bored out of his mind, and Hermione stopped to eye some knitted jumpers. In particular, she said she really liked a light-cream one with a dark brown pattern around the neckline. They were specifically there for dress robes though, so Hermione said she'd wait to get a jumper until afterwards.

'So, who's first?' asked Jane, turning to the two girls.

They both shrugged, feeling shy for no apparent reason, so Jane decided for them and chose Hermione. She then sent Richard and Emma away to get all the rest of their supplies and get Emma some new school robes. Jane said to give them at least an hour.

They both did as they were told and went away, buying everything they needed for school, and some more treats for Nephthys and Crookshanks. All in all, with getting new school robes as well, it took about an hour and a half, and when they returned, Jane and Hermione were waiting outside, Hermione with a bag in one hand, presumably containing her dress robes, and a wide grin on her face. She was obviously happy with her choice. Emma wanted to see, but Jane, for some reason, was against it and ushered her inside to pick out hers.

So, with Richard and Hermione going off to get her new school robes as well, Emma stayed with Jane, looking over some dresses and trying the ones she liked on. Jane already had a few she thought Emma would like after looking through with Hermione, which meant that Emma didn't take nearly as long.

First Jane suggested a pure black, lace dress, and while Emma really liked it, and could see herself wearing it, she wanted more colour. Something a bit brighter than just black, something Hermione wouldn't be expecting or roll her eyes at, something surprising. So, the second one she tried was a dark green dress. This was much nicer, but the style was far too revealing for Emma's taste and the colour screamed Slytherin, which was a deal breaker for something she would be wearing at school.

She tried on a few more of varying colours and styles until she found the perfect one; a very simple, sleek, chiffon dress that started black at the chest and single wide strap that went over the right shoulder, turning slowly to a light blue as it trails onto the floor. To Emma, this was the best of both worlds, a good contrast of light and dark, and even though it was blue, matching Ravenclaw, she didn't mind.

Happy she'd gotten something nice, she went with Jane to pay for it, along with accompanying shoes and jewellery, however, Emma remembered something else.

'Just a second.' she said as they neared the counter.

She quickly ran to find that cream and brown knitted jumper that Hermione had been interested in, and thankfully forgotten about, then returned with it to buy that too.

'For Mia's birthday.' said Emma, at Jane's confused look, which turned to a curious smile and a nod.

Abruptly, it occurred to Emma that she'd never used her nickname for Hermione in front of Jane before and flushed a bright pink, quickly paying to distract herself. Jane and Emma then left the shop, Hermione's present at the bottom of a bag, underneath her dress, and they went to find the other two. They were currently eating some ice-cream at Florean Fortescue's, with a third for Jane too.

Immediately, Emma and Hermione wanted to show each other what they'd gotten, but again, Jane was strongly against it.

'Why not?' asked Hermione, sulking a little.

'Something tells me you'll both appreciate the surprise when you actually wear them, and you'll be disappointed if you already know.'

Emma considered that for a moment. If there was going to be a dance, and judging by the style of the dress robes on offer, it looked more and more likely, she did think it would be nice to be surprised. She wasn't going to know what anyone else would be wearing either, so it made sense, even if it didn't stop her being disappointed.

Since they had everything they needed, they returned home, hid their dresses at the bottom of their trunks and began reading all their new textbooks. They didn't have any new subjects, in fact, they had fewer than last year, so there wasn't anything really new, it was just more complicated.

They didn't have a lot of time to read though. A few days after returning home, the tiny owl that Sirius had given to Ron on the train back from school flew in the window and began racing circles around the kitchen, excitably. Emma eventually managed to catch it and found that it was carrying two letters, one was to Hermione and Emma from Ron, and the other was addressed to Mr and Mrs Granger, in writing far too tidy to be Ron's. They handed the second to Jane and opened theirs.

_'Hermione, Emma - DAD GOT THE TICKETS - Ireland versus Bulgaria, Monday night. You should have Mum's letter to your Hermione's parents to ask you both to stay over._

_If they say yes, send Pig back with your answer pronto, and we'll come and get you at five o'clock on Saturday. We'll be getting Harry on Sunday even if the Muggles say no._

_See you soon - Ron.'_

Hermione read the letter, suddenly excited, looking to Jane expectantly, while Emma pretended like she hadn't read it and went back to her Care of Magical Creatures book. Jane frowned a little, passed the letter to Richard and sat down with the girls. She was slow to give her permission, asking many questions, including whether it would be safe, but after hearing the Ministry itself would be in charge of security, she finally agreed.

'Thanks, mum!' cheered Hermione, ecstatic.

'Yeah... great.' said Emma, glum and sarcastic, not even looking up from her book.

'What? You don't want to go?' asked Hermione. 'But, Emma...'

Emma petulantly kept quiet, pretending not to listen.

'Come on, Em. I know it's Quidditch, but it's the World Cup. There'll be people from all over the world there. We'll get to see Ron's house, and Ginny.' said Hermione, gently, trying to think of things to persuade her. 'You really don't want to go?'

Emma lowered her book and shook her head, sulking a little. Going seemed like it would be just torture. She couldn't imagine finding any of it enjoyable and with the Ministry in charge of everything, there was definitely going to be some amount of risk involved for her.

'Okay then.' said Hermione, flatly, after a long pause, reaching for a piece of parchment. 'I'll tell Ron we're not going.'

Emma looked up, confused, and stared right into Hermione's eyes. She was clearly very conflicted, but mostly unhappy and very stubborn. It made Emma feel very guilty again.

'I'm not going to force you to go, Em,' said Hermione. 'but I'm not going without you.'

Emma shook her head again, vigorously. Hermione had been looking forward to this ever since Ron mentioned it on the train, and there was no way Emma could let her down like that over something so trivial. She'd just have to put up with being bored out of her mind the whole time.

'No, tell him we're both going.' she said, quietly, sighing, and picking her book back up again.

Five days later, on the Saturday, at nearly five o'clock, Emma and Hermione were waiting in the living room, their trunks by the sofas, ready for Mr Weasley and the twins to arrive.

They weren't sure how they were going to get there, but at nearly half-passed five, they had their answer. Suddenly, the fireplace erupted into green flames and out burst Mr Weasley, getting soot everywhere, and scaring the living daylights out of Richard and Jane. The twins followed quickly after.

'Ah, Richard.' said Mr Weasley, pleasantly, holding his hand out to shake hands. 'And Jane, good to see you both again.'

'Arthur.' greeted Richard, a little stunned.

Mr Weasley then introduced the twins and got them to take Emma and Hermione's trunks back through the fire.

'Be safe this year, both of you.' said Jane, hugging the girls as they said goodbye.

'We'll try.' said Emma, smiling.

'We'll do our best.' added Hermione.

'Alright, then.' nodded Jane, as the girls hugged Richard too. 'Write to us when you get back, so we know you're safe.'

'We will.' they agreed in unison.

After another hug, the two girls took a pinch of powder off Mr Weasley, threw it into the fire, said _The Burrow_ loudly, and for the first time, felt the tremendously uncomfortable experience of travelling by Floo.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Burrow

**Chapter 2 - The Burrow**

Emma had heard that Floo could be unpleasant, but she hadn't expected it to be as bad as it was, though maybe that was because she was with Hermione. They kept bumping into each other, holding hands tightly for dear life as they sped passed fireplace after fireplace until they were spat out face first onto the Weasley's kitchen floor.

To their surprise, as they were getting up and rubbing their sore shoulders and elbows, they noticed that the only other person in the room was Mrs Weasley, and she bustled over immediately and started brushing dust off them.

'There you are, dears. Fred and George are taking your things upstairs to Ginny's room.' she said.

'Thank you for inviting us to stay, Mrs Weasley.' said Hermione, a little awkwardly.

Emma wasn't really paying attention as she was taking in the room. On the one hand it was nothing like she'd expected, after all, it was only the second house she'd ever been inside, and it was nothing like Hermione's, but on the other it was very expected. It was a very rustic kitchen with odd decorations on the walls including a weird clock that suited the Weasley's perfectly. It actually felt a lot like the Hufflepuff common room in a way.

She didn't get to take in the whole room, however, as Mr Weasley startled her and Hermione by appearing out of nowhere in front of them with a faint popping sound, carrying a cage with an equally distressed Crookshanks. Emma was happy that Nephthys hadn't had to experience that.

There was a short conversation between Hermione and Mr and Mrs Weasley, while Emma was, again, distracted, this time by nerves. She could hear Fred, George, Percy, Ginny and Ron all upstairs and now was the perfect opportunity to talk about a delicate matter, and she had no idea how the adults were going to take it. If she was honest, she hadn't expected to have to do it right away, but as they were alone, she had little choice. She also didn't have a lot of time.

'Mr and Mrs Weasley...' she stuttered, nervous, interrupting one of Mr Weasley's questions on muggle life. 'I need to tell you something important that I feel you need to know, before you let me stay for too long.'

'What's the matter, dear?' asked Mrs Weasley.

'Before I say, I need you to understand that Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and a few other teachers know this, as well as Hermione, Harry and Ron, and I need you to promise to keep it a secret.'

Her heart was racing because she was scared again. She'd discussed what she was about to do with Hermione beforehand, and they'd both agreed it might not go so well. They knew how prejudiced Ron could be about certain things and clearly he'd learned them from his mother and father. She knew it wasn't really their fault. They were raised magical too, and the magical world seemed to perpetuate discrimination. On top of that, Mr Weasley works for the Ministry, so this was a huge leap of faith. It had to be done though, because they knew questions would arise sooner or later. Mrs Weasley was more canny than Mrs Cole and had already fussed Emma over not eating last year when they stayed in the Leaky Cauldron. In the end, Emma and Hermione decided that telling the adults that Dumbledore knew was probably the best option for softening the blow, given how much they respected him, but it was still terrifying.

'Is this about why you wouldn't eat with us before?' asked Mrs Weasley, her voice soft and warm.

'Yes, miss... it's related.' she stuttered in reply.

'That's alright, dear. You can eat in the other room if it makes you more comfortable?'

'Thank you, miss.' said Emma, a smile faltering on her face. 'But... I'm... a vampire.'

Emma only managed to say the words because Hermione had taken her hand moments before, and even still, she dropped her eyes to the floor, the shame, the embarrassment, and the fear all getting too much.

As expected, Mrs Weasley's reaction was that of alarm, shock and certainly some revulsion, especially at first, while Mr Weasley's was more measured. When he asked questions for clarity, Emma couldn't find her voice and Hermione had to speak for her, stepping in front of her as something of a shield, obviously knowing the answers. Their plan worked though, in the end. Saying that Dumbledore knew did alleviate some of their concerns, particularly when Hermione suggested they owl him for reassurance.

Needless to say, Mrs Weasley became quite chilly towards Emma, though she did promise not to speak of it until she'd heard from Dumbledore. It was a relief, then, when Ginny and Ron came down the stairs and diffused a lot of the tension.

The girls were then shown the way up through the house by a curiously subdued Ginny to her bedroom on the first floor landing. Before Ron was shooed away by Ginny, he said his room was at the top of the house and was where Harry and the twins would be sleeping because Bill and Charlie would be arriving soon.

Ginny's room was bright and small, especially since three beds were squeezed inside, a trunk each on two of them. There were two posters on the wall, one of a group of witches and the other a Quidditch player. Emma recognised neither of them. On the back wall was a tiny desk facing an open window that looked out over an orchard.

They spent a short time in the room, unpacking their trunks, letting Crookshanks out of his cage and chatting animatedly, though not with Ginny. For some reason, she left very shortly after showing the girls her room. Eventually it became all-go, however, when Mrs Weasley called them down to help prepare dinner and to get the tables ready outside, because there wouldn't be enough room for everyone, even excluding Emma.

While they were helping, Charlie turned up. Emma knew it was him as he had numerous burns, but he looked nothing like she expected. He was shorter and stockier than Percy, more like the twins, and he was also covered in freckles, so much so that he looked tanned. He was very nice and kindly, introducing himself and shaking Emma and Hermione's hands. He then immediately got to work levitating the tables outside to save the girls the job. Bill arrived next, and he was even more interesting, with his long hair in a ponytail, a single fanged earring and clothes that looked just like Emma imagined those at a rock concert would wear, all the way down to his dragon leather boots. Comparing the eldest Weasley brothers' laid-back attitudes with Percy, who she hadn't actually seen yet since arriving, considering he was hiding away in his room working, Emma wondered why they were so different from his pompous, uptight and bossy behaviour.

Once the food started being brought out, Emma retreated to the living room to read. She still had a couple of her school books left to get through. She was about a quarter of the way through the one for History of Magic when she was thankfully saved by Hermione and some of the other Weasley's returning. They had a lively conversation, though, curiously, despite knowing that Ginny really liked her eldest brothers, she seemed conspicuously absent, again, and that only became more apparent the following day.

Emma and Hermione wandered around the gardens of the Burrow, taking in the sights, when they weren't needed for other things. They asked Ginny if she would join them and maybe show them around, but she looked really conflicted and refused, claiming she had work to do. Disappointed, Emma and Hermione went out alone, and wondered what was wrong with her. They seemed to get their answer that evening though when Harry turned up. She went bright red and made herself scarcer than before.

That wasn't the only drama around Harry's arrival either. The twins got in quite a bit of trouble with Mrs Weasley for something she called _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_ and a _Ton-Tongue Toffee_. Emma wanted to avoid the argument and Hermione seemed to as well.

'Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?' she said.

'He knows where he's sleeping.' replied Ron. 'In my room, he slept there last-'

'You can show us too.' said Emma, glaring pointedly.

'Oh.' said Ron, the penny dropping. 'Right.'

Quickly escaping the drama, Ron led them up the stairs. What awaited them was another fairly small room with numerous Quidditch posters on the wall and a fish tank by the window which held a single large frog. The room was very messy too, with clothes strewn about the floor and clutter everywhere. It was also noisy, given how the little owl, Pig, was hopping up and down in his cage and twittering madly.

'Shut up, Pig.' barked Ron.

'Ron!' growled Emma, glaring.

'Where's Crookshanks?' asked Harry, interrupting before someone got hurt, turning to the girls. 'And Nephthys?'

'Out in the garden, I expect.' said Hermione. 'Crookshanks likes chasing gnomes. He's never seen any before.'

'And Nephthys is out delivering a letter at the moment.' added Emma.

The four of them then spent a little while catching up before they had to help prepare the dinner table again.

That night, after a lot of talk about the Quidditch Cup among the Weasleys and Harry, all the children were told to go to bed early, because the next morning they would be leaving before dawn to get to the World Cup on time. Conflicted, Emma joined Hermione and Ginny in the room they shared. She was glad for the relative quiet and to be away from Mrs Weasley. Her attitude toward Emma had improved only a little, mostly due to there still being no word from Dumbledore yet. On the other hand, she was unhappy to be stuck in the tiny room again. Because of Mrs Weasley's opinion of her, Emma felt wrong even considering exploring at night. Instead she passed the time with a book.

It wasn't until shortly after 3 o'clock in the morning when Emma remembered it was her feeding time. With all the chaos from being at the Burrow, it had totally slipped her mind. She took the bottle, which always seemed to magically appear in her trunk, no matter where it was, and drank it quickly, not even noticing that it should have long been cold by then, but wasn't. It was a good thing she'd remembered in time because she could hear Mrs Weasley getting up and going to wake the boys upstairs, which is when Hermione started stirring, probably sensing the noise too.

'Morning, Mia.' whispered Emma, smiling, and closing the lid on her bottle.

'Mor... ning, Em.' replied Hermione, yawning wide and turning to Emma as she sat up in bed.

Their beds were side-by-side and Emma had been sitting cross-legged on hers, so the two of them were very close, allowing Hermione to reach over to Emma and put her fingertip to the side of Emma's mouth.

'You've got a bit...' she said, wiping a little blood away.

What followed was a very awkward minute or two as the both of them blushed at the gesture, and looked away, both extremely aware of how close they were, and trying their best not to let the other see how they felt.

They got their relief when Ginny woke up and Hermione quickly took that opportunity to leave the room and brush her teeth. Emma tried to smile at Ginny, but she was very self-conscious and embarrassed, but Ginny just had a frown on her face as she looked between Emma and the door Hermione had left through. Confused, Emma felt that Ginny looked remorseful, or guilty. She couldn't tell which.

Of course, neither of them had time to dwell on it as Mrs Weasley knocked and made sure they were up, and everything was rushed after that. They got dressed and ready, which took a little while, prompting another impatient call from Mrs Weasley.

'Why do we have to be up so early?' asked Ginny, rubbing her eyes and sitting at the table to get some breakfast.

'We've got a bit of a walk.' said Mr Weasley.

'Walk?' asked Harry, alarmed. 'What, we're walking to the World Cup?'

'No, no, that's miles away.' said Mr Weasley, smiling. 'We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of witches and wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup-'

He didn't get to finish his sentence because Mrs Weasley had noticed something in George's pocket, and what followed was a horrible scene of her summoning a lot of those joke-sweets of the twins from them, complaining she'd told them to destroy them all.

Emma hated conflict, especially after what happened between her and Hermione in their second year, so she was glad to leave a little while later, crossing the yard eagerly.

Some of the others were shivering a little so it was clearly cold out, and very dark too, the moon and stars still visible. Emma could tell it was nearly dawn though, with a faint glow sprouting ever so slightly on the horizon.

At first, Harry questioned Mr Weasley on how thousands of Wizards get to the Quidditch World Cup without Muggles noticing, but very soon they were all out of breath, walking quickly down the lane toward the nearest village, aiming for the dark silhouette of a hill in the far distance. Emma wasn't paying any attention though. Her mind was mostly hyper-aware of Hermione walking nearby, on the other side of Ginny from her. She couldn't help wonder, and worry, whether Mia had noticed how Emma reacted to the intimate moment that morning and was now avoiding her. The rest of her thoughts were on the unexplored area they were walking through, taking in the sights.

They trudged on for some time, the lightening sky and the passage of the hedgerows being the only thing breaking the monotony. The village was lovely, small and rustic, and a nice change from London. Pretty soon they were at the base of the hill and climbing it, and it was steeper than they'd been expecting.

Once the summit was in sight, Emma used the last of her energy running to the top and promptly let herself fall backwards to the soft ground, arms splayed out and tried to catch her breath. A minute or so later, the rest of the group appeared, all the worse for wear. Hermione in particular was clutching at a stitch in her side.

'Now we just need the Portkey.' said Mr Weasley, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his sweater, before glancing around. 'It won't be big... come on...'

Emma wondered what on Earth he was talking about for a moment, until her subconscious, which had been listening to him talk to Harry earlier, filled in the blanks, reminding her what a Portkey was. She spread out with the rest, keeping an eye out for anything that might look like litter. They'd only been at it for a minute or two when another man called out from the other side of the hill.

'Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!'

They were still silhouetted by the sunrise, but Emma could make them out well enough. She didn't know the man, but the taller boy with him she recognised. She knew he was a Hufflepuff, but little more than that.

'Amos!' cried Mr Weasley, striding over to the man who shouted. 'This is Amos Diggory, everyone. Works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?'

As soon as Emma heard that Amos was another Ministry employee, she began to worry again, just a little bit. She didn't expect this man to be able to recognise her as a vampire, given he worked with Magical Creatures, but she did wonder, considering the whole Quidditch World Cup event was Ministry run, if they were going to run into someone who works in a department for Magical Beings. Sighing, she just made a note to be much more careful once they got to wherever it is they were going.

'Hi.' said Cedric, happily to the group.

Of course, everyone said hi back, except Fred and George, who barely nodded, and Emma who was now too distracted, marvelling at the beautiful view of the sunrise and landscape from the top of the hill.

'Long walk, Arthur?' asked Amos.

'Not too bad,' replied Mr Weasley. 'We live just on the other side of the village there. You?'

'Had to get up at two, didn't we Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still... not complaining... Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons, and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy...' said Amos, peering around over the gathering. 'All these yours, Arthur?'

'Oh, no, only the redheads.' replied Mr Weasley, pointing out Ginny, Ron and the twins, before introducing the rest. 'This is Hermione, and Emma, friends of Ginny and Ron's, and Harry, another friend-'

'Merlin's beard...' gasped Amos, eyes widening.

'Here we go again...' muttered Emma to herself, giving her attention back to the view.

'Must be nearly time.' said Mr Weasley a bit later, as Hermione nudged Emma to pay attention. 'Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?'

'No, the Lovegood's have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets-' said Amos.

'The Lovegood's?' piped up Emma. 'Does that mean Luna is there? Oh, it'd be nice to see her again.'

Hermione and Ginny smiled and nodded at Emma, but Amos looked a little put out that he'd been interrupted.

'Well, if it's just us,' coughed Mr Weasley. 'we'd better get ready. It's only a minute off.'

At Harry, Hermione and Emma's confused looks, Mr Weasley explained that they just need to touch the Portkey for it to work. So, Emma moved forward into the very tight space, surrounded by people and backpacks, to touch the old boot. Hermione and Ginny followed suit with Hermione on Emma's left, and Ginny on her right.

It must have been about twenty seconds where they were all there, leaning in highly uncomfortable positions, just waiting until Mr Weasley started counting down the seconds.

'Three... two... one...' he muttered, keeping an eye on his watch.

Suddenly, Emma felt something strong grasp tightly onto her stomach and pulled, hard. It felt like falling into the Pensieve again, only this went on for much longer, and the world flew by in a blur. In a way, it was also like travelling by Floo, because they all kept bumping into each other as they were jostled around, though their fingers were fixed in place as if glued to the boot.

When Emma's feet slammed into the floor, she very nearly kept her balance, and probably would have done had Ginny not fallen into her and pushed her to the floor on her back. A split-second later, the wind was knocked out of her as Hermione, who had also lost her balance, landed right on top of her, and now their faces were mere millimetres apart.


	3. Chapter 3 - Campsite

**Chapter 3 - Campsite**

Apart from being in a very uncomfortable position, being squashed, all Emma's thoughts were on Hermione's eyes, and desperately fighting, with every fibre of her being, the desire to lean up, just an ever so tiny bit, and kiss her. She felt herself go red with the effort, the awkwardness of the intimate moment, and it felt like it went on forever. Hermione's eyes were just so beautiful, brown, but speckled, vibrant, even in the dim light of the sunrise.

Eventually, after what, in reality, was probably no more than a second or two, Ron got up and apologised to Hermione for knocking her over, and reached down to help her up. Once Emma was free, she looked up to see Harry offer her a hand too, and took it gladly, mumbling thanks before turning away, embarrassed.

Emma could have sworn, for just a tiny moment, before Ron interrupted, that Hermione may have felt the same way about Emma as she did for her. Now though, chancing a glance through a veil of her hair, ever so carefully out of the corner of her eye, still red-faced, Hermione was looking away from her and Emma couldn't tell how she felt now.

Thinking it was probably, and most likely, wishful thinking in the heat of the moment, Emma decided she had to do something. She couldn't go on like this. It hurt. She needed to tell Hermione how she felt, even if it was guaranteed to end in disaster. Though now would be a bad time, definitely, given that they were about to be camping together. No, she would wait until they were back home. Of course, she had to fight to make herself believe that was pragmatism and not cowardice.

'Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill.' said a male voice, knocking Emma out of her existential crisis.

A quick look around told Emma that they were in a small depression in the land, surrounded on all sides by small rolling hills. It was also really misty. Clearly this was a good spot to Portkey into as nobody could see this area without being immediately visible.

Mr Weasley received directions from the Ministry workers standing next to a large box of used Portkeys, and they went on their way. Once they'd climbed yet another hill, they were greeted by another spectacular view. A large moor, field after field, covered in the morning mist that hadn't burned off yet, and thousands upon thousands of tents. Also, off to their right, obscuring that whole side of the horizon, was a large mass of trees, a forest that looked much friendlier than the forbidden one at school. She hoped it had fewer Centaurs in it too.

After about a quarter of a mile, they reached a small cottage with one of the few Muggles in the area.

'Morning!' said Mr Weasley, happily.

'Morning.' replied the Muggle.

'Would you be Mr Roberts?'

'Aye, I would, and who're you?'

'Weasley, two tents, booked a couple of days ago?'

'Aye.' said Mr Roberts, checking a list on his door. 'You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?'

'That's it.' agreed Mr Weasley.

'You'll be paying now, then?'

'Ah... right... certainly...' stuttered Mr Weasley.

What followed was Mr Weasley fumbling with Muggle money and asking Harry for help, and then Mr Roberts got suspicious. He complained about the number of foreigners and peculiar goings-on until, out of nowhere, a wizard apparated and cast a spell Emma vaguely remembered; _Obliviate_. Mr Roberts' eyes went slack, his frown vanished and his demeanour calmed. This was the memory wipe charm and Emma found herself glaring at this wizard for doing it. Glancing at Hermione told her that she had the same opinion, a frown forming on her face.

'Been having a lot of trouble with him.' said the newly arrived wizard as they walked to their field. 'Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy.'

'Ten times a day?' asked Emma, angrily, scowling. 'Surely that's not healthy for him?'

'Oh, it's quite alright.' said the wizard, tiredly, brushing off her complaint like it was nothing. 'He'll be momentarily disorientated, but he'll be right as rain in a few minutes.'

'But isn't that... cruel?' asked Hermione, appalled.

'No, no, it's quite alright.' he replied, completely nonchalant. 'Besides, we need to do it, with Ludo Bagman trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice. Not a worry about anti-muggle security, that one. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur.'

And with that, he disapparated.

'I thought Mr Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports?' asked Ginny, looking surprised. 'He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?'

'He should,' said Mr Weasley, smiling, and leading them through the gates to the campsite. 'but Ludo's always been a bit... well... _lax_ about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic Head of the Sports Department though. He played Quidditch for England himself...'

Emma huffed angrily and ignored the rest of what Mr Weasley had to say. She was annoyed with how these people can treat Muggles so badly without a single sign of remorse. Not to mention that the anti-muggle wards probably weren't helping Mr Roberts mental state either.

A little further walk and finally Emma had something to distract her. In front and around her were hundreds of tents. Most were surprisingly Muggle-like, though there were many who had slipped up by adding chimney stacks or weather-vanes. A few, however, had made absolutely no attempt to blend in, from a striped silk miniature palace, to what was essentially a three-floor castle in tent form. This just made her even more annoyed. The Ministry would rather O_bliviate_ a Muggle than enforce attendees to follow the rules?

Truly, at this point, Emma felt like she'd never had such a low opinion of the Magical community.

Luckily, again, Emma was able to take her mind off this when they reached their spot, right next to the woods. Mr Weasley, at least, respected the rules and asked Harry for help in putting up the tents without magic, though he hadn't been camping before. Neither had Emma. Hermione on the other hand had, and so she did most of the coordinating.

After a while of elbow-grease, and the overenthusiastic use of a mallet from Mr Weasley, they had erected two two-man tents. Harry looked thoroughly confused, probably wondering how they'd all fit, but Emma had a feeling they must have Extension Charms on them.

'We'll be a bit cramped,' called Mr Weasley, as he scrambled inside the left tent. 'but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look.'

Emma followed after Harry, Ron and Hermione, and found she'd been right. It was more spacious than she was expecting. It had a big communal area, a kitchen through one door, a bathroom through another, and a bedroom with four bunk beds on the far side. It did smell weird though and had oddly mismatched crochet covered chairs.

'Well, it's not for long... I borrowed this from Perkins at the office.' said Mr Weasley, picking up a dusty kettle. 'We'll need water.'

'There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us.' noted Ron. 'It's on the other side of the field.'

'Well, why don't you, Harry, Hermione and Emma go and get us some water, then -' he said as he handed over various containers, like the kettle and some saucepans. '- and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire.'

Ignoring Ron complaining about why they don't just use the oven they have, and the boys dropping off their backpacks in their room, they then left to check on the girls' tent. It was quite a bit smaller than the boys' one, but then there was only Emma, Hermione and Ginny that would be sleeping in it. It was similar to the boys' tent, in that it had a communal area, but it was missing a kitchen, only having a bathroom and a single bedroom with two bunk beds inside. Emma just threw her backpack down on the floor. Hermione and Ginny could choose wherever they wanted to sleep.

'Let's get some water, then.' said Emma, reluctant to walk past more blatantly magical and annoying tents, but still curious despite herself.

So the four of them meandered off into the city of tents. After all the time setting up their own, the sun had risen and the mist lifted. This meant Emma's skin felt like it was burning again, so she shrugged on a black jacket Jane had bought her, and pulled the hood up, while the other three took theirs off and wrapped them around their waists.

As Emma expected, it wasn't just the sun annoying her. People were waking up all over the campsite and making breakfast. Some families were trying to get fires made with matches but most were furtively using magic. Others still were flagrantly disregarding the rules completely, like one tent with bright purple flames outside.

Frustrated, Emma instead focused on the people themselves. People watching was always an enjoyable exercise and now was without a doubt the best time for it. Hermione had been right, there were more nationalities here than Emma believed possible. There were languages being spoken that Emma knew, at least in passing, that she could recognise, like Welsh, French, German, Italian and Spanish, but there were far more she had no idea where they were from.

Continuing on, however, this variation began to decrease.

'Er... is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?' asked Ron.

It wasn't his eyes. The tents they were passing seemed to be covered in growths of shamrock. It gave the appearance of a field of tiny hills.

'Harry! Ron!' shouted a voice a short way behind them.

Turning, Emma saw Seamus Finnigan, a fellow fourth year Gryffindor, sitting in front of a tent with his best friend Dean Thomas, and a woman who looked very much like him, sandy-colour hair and all.

'Like the decorations?' asked Seamus, after the four of them joined him. 'The Ministry's not too happy.'

Emma just hid herself and hissed.

'Ah, why shouldn't we show our colours?' said Mrs Finnigan. 'You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling off _their_ tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?'

Harry, Ron and Hermione agreed whole heartedly before they set off again.

'Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot.' muttered Ron.

'I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling over their tents?' said Harry.

'Let's go and have a look.' replied Ron, pointing to a large patch of tents in the distance where they could see the Bulgarian flag, fluttering in the breeze.

Emma started to follow, but was distracted by Hermione taking her hand and pulling her close.

'I know you don't like this.' she whispered. 'I don't either... They may as well be wiping mum and dad's memories, all because these people don't know how to follow rules... But please, calm down. You have to be really careful here. Please...'

Emma just nodded, squeezing Hermione's hand reassuringly, very conflicted by the moment until Hermione did something else equally distracting.

'Em! There's Luna!' she exclaimed. 'Harry, Ron, wait!'

Of course, Emma turned to look, and there, unmistakably, down a row of tents was the short third-year girl with the very long and wavy dirty-blonde hair; Luna Lovegood. She was sat outside an equally green tent to the Finnigan's, and next to her was a very eccentric looking man that reminded her vaguely of pictures of the Muggle scientist, Einstein.

Instantly, Hermione was pulling Emma, still holding hands, in their direction with the boys following confusedly a ways behind. As they got closer, the young girl and the man turned to look at their visitors. The man appeared a little confused, though still smiling broadly at the girls, while Luna, who seemed to never be surprised by anything, greeted them warmly.

'Hi, Hermione. Hi, Emma. It's wonderful to see you again.' she said in her ever-dreamlike voice, not quite looking them in the eyes. 'Daddy, this is Hermione Granger and Emma Pearson.'

The man, her father, stepped forward eagerly and shook their hands.

'Xenophilius Lovegood, at your service.' he beamed, with an odd intensity.

'It's nice to meet you, Mr Lovegood.' replied Hermione. 'We-'

Just then, the boys caught up and drew the attention of Luna and her dad.

'Oh, Luna, Mr Lovegood, this is Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, our friends.'

Of course, whenever Harry is brought up around wizards, they look to his scar and talk at him, and now was no exception. Mr Lovegood shook his hand with extra verve and introduced himself again to the boys.

'Who're y-' asked Ron.

'This is Luna.' said Emma with a little venom. 'She's a Ravenclaw and a good friend of Ginny's, and ours.'

'Friends?' asked Luna, tilting her head and showing confusion for probably the first time, that Emma had seen anyway.

'Of course you are, Luna.' giggled Hermione.

'Oh...' smiled Luna, her face going dreamy again. 'That's nice.'

Ron interrupted again and reminded them that they needed water, so they bid goodbye to the Lovegoods and continued on to the Bulgarians' area. The tents there hadn't been overrun by plant-life like the Irish, but had instead been covered in posters of a burly young man, with a very surly face, thick black eyebrows and a scowl.

'Krum.' said Ron, quietly, almost in reverence.

'What?' asked Hermione and Emma together.

'Krum!' repeated Ron, his patience already lost. 'Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian seeker!'

'He looks really grumpy.' noted Hermione, making Emma snigger.

'Who cares what he looks like?' gasped Ron. 'He's unbelievable. He's really young too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a _genius_, you just wait until tonight, you'll see.'

Bewildered at Ron's intensity, the four of them trudged the last final bit to get to the tap for water. There was already a small queue, probably longer than it would have been had they not delayed with the Finnigans and Lovegoods. They waited their turn patiently, mostly in silence. Emma couldn't help be hyper-aware of Hermione beside her, and continued to feel awkward, mulling over what she wanted to tell her.

Once they had their containers all filled up, they began the long walk back, slower now, weighed down by the water and trying not to spill it. Of course, they couldn't help meeting more people they knew along the way. First was Oliver Wood, Harry's old Quidditch Captain and a very annoying person in general. Then they were greeted by Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff from their year. Finally they met a fifth-year Ravenclaw girl. Emma didn't know who she was until Hermione mentioned it later, Cho Chang, the new Seeker for Ravenclaw's Quidditch team. What was most interesting was that she smiled and waved at Harry, and he grinned and spilt a fair bit of water over himself trying to wave back. He had the strangest look on his face. It reminded Emma of the look some of the girls in her class had given the Fraud, Gilderoy Lockhart, back when he was teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Ron teased Harry for spilling the water but Emma was just trying to decipher the look he gave Cho. Was it respect for a fellow Quidditch Seeker or was it something more? Did Harry love Cho? If it was that, then was that how Emma looked at Hermione? She hoped not or everyone would know how she felt.

She didn't pay any attention after that. For all she knew they met nobody else on the return trip.

'You've been ages!' said George, loudly.

'Met a few people.' replied Ron, setting the water down. 'You not got that fire started yet?'

'Dad's having fun with the matches.' sighed Fred, rolling his eyes.

Mr Weasley was having no luck starting the fire, but he was having the time of his life trying, surrounded by splintered matches. They watched him finally manage to light one, but the shock of it made him drop it, and it went out.

'Oops.' he said, giddily.

'I can do that, if you would like, sir?' offered Emma.

'Absolutely not!' said Hermione. 'The last time you were near a fire you nearly burned yourself.'

'I was just trying to hold a Salamander...' sulked Emma, shrugging.

'Come here, Mr Weasley, let me.' said Hermione, smirking at Emma and rolling her eyes.

In no time at all, Hermione had the fire lit, having used only a single match. It still took a while before the fire was hot enough for them to cook on, and during that time, they were visited by _many_ Ministry officials, including the late arrival of Bill, Charlie and Percy. Their tent was right next to the main thoroughfare to the Quidditch pitch through the woods, and because of this, Emma retreated to the back of the group, next to the girls' tent, and read one of her books while hiding.

Emma only began to pay attention when Ludo Bagman showed up. A loud, obnoxious and overweight man who clearly used to be powerfully built before he let himself go. Emma couldn't help dislike him. The Obliviator had blamed him for the need to do his job, and she wasn't surprised. He was dressed in full Quidditch robes with a large wasp on the front. Why wasn't he being forced to wear Muggle clothes, like the rules said?

Emma heard her name briefly as Mr Weasley introduced everyone, and then watched as Ludo asked if anyone would bet on the game. Mr Weasley put down a single Galleon, while Fred and George bet, apparently, their entire savings.

'Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose?' asked Ludo, happily. 'I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages.'

'Mr Crouch?' piped up Percy, suddenly getting the demeanour of a very loyal puppy, and speaking in his usual pompous tone. 'He speaks over two-hundred! Mermish, Gobbledegook and Troll...'

'Anyone can speak Troll.' said Fred, dismissively. 'All you have to do is point and grunt.'

'Any news on Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?' asked Mr Weasley, as Percy shot a nasty look at Fred.

'Not a dickybird.' said Ludo, uncomfortable. 'But she'll turn up...'

Emma went back to her book but was interrupted again when a new man appeared with a pop. He was the complete opposite of Ludo, dressed impressively like a Muggle businessman.

'Pull up a bit of grass, Barty.' said Ludo, to this new arrival.

'No, thank you, Ludo.' replied Mr Crouch. 'I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add twelve more seats to the Top Box.'

'Mr Crouch!' said Percy, bowing, speaking the moment Barty stopped talking. 'Would you like a cup of tea?'

'Oh,' he replied, surprised. 'Yes, thank you, Weatherby.'

Fred, George, Emma and Hermione all sniggered at that, the twins even choking on their tea, while Percy went bright red. Of course, the adults went back to adult conversation, only, one thing caught Emma's ear. According to Ludo, there was something happening at Hogwarts this year, and Mr Crouch did his absolute best to keep Ludo from revealing more. Emma's curiosity was definitely piqued, but then again, if Ludo was involved it would be a sport, so probably very boring.

As dusk arrived, and the time for the game drew nearer, various salespeople began apparating around the field selling all manner of goods. Luminous rosettes, green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria, hats with dancing shamrocks, scarves with roaring lions, flags of all kinds, model broomsticks that flew, and even miniature figures of each teams' players that moved by themselves.

'Wow, look at these!' exclaimed Harry, running to a cart with what looked like brass binoculars covered in dials and knobs.

'Omnioculars.' said the saleswizard, eagerly. 'You can replay action, slow everything down, and they flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. A bargain at ten Galleons each.'

'Wish I hadn't bought this now.' said Ron, glumly, gesturing to his shamrock hat.

'Four pairs.' said Harry, to the wizard.

'Three.' corrected Emma, firmly.

'Two.' added Ron, half-heartedly, going red, clearly touchy about Harry spending money on him.

'You won't be getting anything for Christmas.' said Harry, thrusting Omnioculars into Ron and Hermione's hands. 'For about ten years, mind.'

'Fair enough.' said Ron, grinning.

'Ooh, thanks, Harry.' said Hermione. 'And I'll get us some programmes, look-'

After the other three spent an inordinate amount of money on junk, they went back to their tents and met up with the others. Bill, Charlie and Ginny were all wearing green rosettes, while Mr Weasley had an Irish flag, and of course Fred and George had nothing as they'd bet all their money away.

Suddenly, while they were all getting their things ready, there was a deep, booming gong sound somewhere deep in the woods that made Emma's ears ring. A split-second later, the trees burst into bright light, blinding Emma momentarily. It was lit with red and green lanterns, showing the path to the pitch.

'It's time!' said Mr Weasley, looking more excited than he had been while playing with matches. 'Come on, let's go!'


	4. Chapter 4 - Quidditch World Cup

**Chapter 4 - Quidditch World Cup**

Emma followed beside Mr Weasley and the others in silence, though it certainly wasn't quiet. In the darkness of the forest, on both sides, she could see more lantern lit paths leading to the stadium and thousands of people were following them. She could hear their cacophonous footsteps, the excited chatter and shouting, and it was infectious. Even though Emma knew this game would be as boring as any other, she couldn't help smiling, and, given the amount of spectators, people watching would be an adequate distraction.

It took about twenty minutes to get through the woods and there, ahead of them, was a pristine gold structure of mind boggling dimensions. The only thing even comparable to her was the Room of Hidden Things in Hogwarts, and she was sure it could fit inside this stadium, at least by width. She still hadn't gone deep enough in there to find the far side yet, if there even was one.

'Seats a hundred thousand.' noted Mr Weasley. 'Ministry Taskforce of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle-repelling charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again. Bless them.'

Emma just glared, thinking what it must be doing to Mr Roberts at the entrance.

'Prime seats!' said a Ministry witch, as they approached the bottom of some stairs. 'Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go.'

They followed the directions and climbed step after step. It was adorned with very nice deep-purple carpets. As they climbed, the people following them began to break away, taking doors on the right and left, taking their places in the stadium, leaving just the Weasley's and company heading to the top.

When they finally arrived, out of breath, Emma was a little disappointed. The room they were in was quite small and packed in were twenty-four equally purple chairs with gold trim. The room was at the very centre of one side of the pitch, exactly half-way between the post things at either end of the pitch. On the opposite side was a massive blackboard with advertisements on. It was also extremely loud, even up and away from the other spectators. The excited chattering and shouting drowned out everything quieter than loud talking and it was giving Emma a headache. A curious look around the room itself revealed they weren't alone, despite seemingly being the first there. In one of the seats at the back was a creature. Emma couldn't be sure, but it looked like Harry's description of the house-elf that nearly killed him in their second year.

'Dobby?' asked Harry, surprised, noticing the elf too.

The elf was covering its face with its fingers and trembling, but raised its head and parted the fingers slightly at being spoken to.

'Did sir just call me Dobby?' squeaked the creature in a very high-pitched voice.

Ron, Hermione and even Mr Weasley turned to look too, curious.

'Sorry, I just thought you were someone I knew.' said Harry.

'But I knows Dobby too, sir!' squeaked the elf, still shaking and covering her eyes again, like she was scared. 'My name is Winky, sir, and you, sir, you is surely Harry Potter.'

'Yeah, I am.' said Harry, sighing a little.

'But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!' she said, lowering her hands a bit.

'How is he?' asked Harry. 'How's freedom suiting him?'

'Ah, sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favour, sir, when setting him free.'

'Why?' asked Harry, confused. 'What's wrong with him?'

'Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir.' she said, sadly. 'Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir.'

'Why not?'

Winky lowered her voice and leaned forward to whisper.

'_He is wanting paying for his work, sir._'

'You say that as if you're not paid?' asked Emma, horrified.

Winky turned to Emma, matching her expression.

'House-elves is _not_ being paid for work, miss!' she squeaked, almost angrily, turning back to Harry. 'No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin.'

'Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun.' smiled Harry.

'House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter.' said Winky, firmly, from behind her hand-hidden face. 'House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter, but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir.'

'That's horrible!' gasped Hermione, as Emma nodded in agreement. 'Cruel even.'

'Why's he sent you up here if he knows you don't like heights?' frowned Harry.

'Master - master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told, Winky is a good house-elf.'

With that she hid her face again and it seemed she was done, refusing to continue talking. Harry turned back to Ron, while Emma and Hermione shared disgusted glances. These house-elves were treated like slaves. Emma really didn't think her opinion of magicals could have gotten any worse, but here she was.

Emma remained in her own little bubble of anger as she ignored the room around her. She registered, but didn't care, when Fudge, the Minister for Magic, arrived, along with some Bulgarian Wizards and a few other very important Ministry officials. She was roused, after a while, by a nudge from Hermione when Fudge announced the latest arrival.

'Ah, and here's Lucius.'

Emma turned to see what the others were looking at. There, in the entrance to the Top Box, was Draco Malfoy, his father Lucius, and a woman who was very clearly his mother. Emma had never seen her before. Like Draco, she was blonde, tall and slim, and she was extremely beautiful, wearing a very elegant dress. In fact, the only negative things Emma could think of about her was that she had a look as if the room were filled with a terrible smell, and that her son was Draco.

To resist the temptation of making Draco see all sorts of nightmares, Emma went back to people watching. The stands were now almost full to bursting with more people than Emma had seen in her entire life.

She did hear Fudge mention that Lucius had made a donation to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, however, that made her all the more annoyed and upset. She really wanted to work there one day. Healing had become a passion of hers and that was _the_ place to be, but she would never be allowed to practise there as a vampire. Not with the prejudices of the magical community, especially when pure-blood fanatics like Lucius throw money around to keep things that way. Worst of all, he doesn't care one iota about St. Mungo's, he just did it to gain political capital.

Eventually, and thankfully, though Emma would never admit that's how she felt, Ludo Bagman arrived and was quick to get everything underway.

'Everyone ready?' he asked, beaming at the others in the Top Box. 'Minister, ready to go?'

'Ready when you are, Ludo.' replied Fudge.

He put his wand to his throat and incanted, _Sonorus_.

'Ladies and gentlemen... welcome!' said Ludo, and his voice echoed clearly around the stadium for all to hear. 'Welcome to the four-hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!'

Emma was deafened momentarily by the screams and shouts and cheers of the entire stadium, and had to cover her ears with her hands.

'And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce... the Bulgarian Team Mascots!'

'I wonder what they brought?' asked Mr Weasley, leaning forward. 'Ahhh! Veela.'

He suddenly leaned back again and busied himself by taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his shirt. At first, that seemed curious to Emma, but when a hundred Veela glided out onto the pitch and began dancing to music, she understood.

The Veela were creatures, definitely, but they appeared to look like women, very beautiful women, though there was certainly more to it than that. All across the stadium, and in the Top Box, men and older boys, like Harry and Ron, were standing up and either trying to show off or leaning forward eagerly, as if completely mesmerised by a Charm. Emma couldn't blame them, the dancing and the music really was enchanting, and she couldn't help stare, but their magic had no effect on her.

Beside her, after the music had stopped, she saw Hermione shake her head a little, and then tut at the boys, with a frustrated tone.

'What _are_ you two doing?' hissed Hermione, before giving a confused glare to Emma. '_Boys, honestly!_'

For a split-second, Emma wondered if Hermione had been effected by the Veela as she seemed rattled, but Emma put that down to wishful thinking again.

'And now,' roared Ludo. 'kindly put your wands in the air... for the Irish National Team Mascots!'

Immediately, a massive green and gold ball of light flew at amazing speed into the stadium, like a comet. Emma could see that it was made up of thousands of small creatures, though they were moving far too fast to see them clearly.

The ball flew around the pitch once and then split in two, each going to the opposite sides, by the post-hoop-things, and as if that wasn't enough spectacle, a vibrant rainbow arced across the pitch joining the two groups. It was very pretty, and the crowd were loving the display, 'Ooohing' and 'Aaahing' quietly.

The rainbow soon faded and the creatures combined again, this time into a giant flying shamrock, and did another loop of the stadium, this time causing more chaos than even the Veela had. They began dropping gold Galleons everywhere, and people scrambled under their seats to collect as much as they could.

It was when they passed overhead again that Emma clearly saw that they were tiny, bearded men in red waistcoats. Mr Weasley called them Leprechauns, while Ron gleefully stuffed a fistful of the coins into Harry's hands.

'There you go! For the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!'

Once the Leprechauns were done, they drifted over to the Irish side of the stadium and the game was ready to begin, which meant Emma turned off. She just caught Ron fawning over Krum again when he was introduced, and that was it.

She thought about what she was going to say to Hermione when they got home, and how terrifying the prospect of revealing her love was. She wondered where Nephthys was right now, she'd been gone for so long, delivering a message to Sirius. She was also curious why Barty Crouch still hadn't turned up, making Winky sit next to an empty chair all game, scared out of her wits.

Of course, she couldn't keep herself completely out of the game. The Veela in particular were very distracting, as beautiful as they were, but especially when the game got very aggressive. The Leprechauns were taunting the Veela who became violent, flying up to the Irish side and started throwing fire at the little men. Most curious of all was how the Veela changed appearance. They were suddenly not beautiful, more bird-like with very cruel-looking sharp beaks and scaly wings.

'And _that_, boys, is why you should never go for looks alone!' yelled Mr Weasley, trying to be heard over the roar of the crowd.

Emma didn't have to retreat into her head for long after that. The game soon ended and Emma had to cover her ears again from everyone, including the Veela, and the Leprechauns, all celebrating or commiserating the result.

After that, the Top Box was lit up far too brightly for Emma, making her wince, so that the whole stadium could see inside, and then the teams were brought up. The Bulgarian team first, having lost, and then the Irish. They all shook the Bulgarian Minister's hand as well as Fudge's, and then, finally, everyone was free to return to their tents.

'Don't tell your mother you've been gambling.' said Mr Weasley to the twins, frowning as they left the Top Box.

They'd won their bet and Ludo had been forced to hand over a lot of Galleons, and the twins were beaming.

'Don't worry, Dad.' grinned Fred. 'We've got big plans for this money, we don't want it confiscated.'

Mr Weasley just shook his head, probably thinking better of asking them to elaborate, deciding not knowing was better.

The Weasleys, Emma, Hermione and Harry joined the crowds returning through the woods, this time at the back, and chatting excitedly about the match and joining in the raucous singing. Emma, meanwhile, walked in silence, watching the Leprechauns fly overhead with their lanterns, or people celebrating by shooting colourful sparks out of their wands into the woods. Instead of feeling the infectious positive energy, she just got surlier and surlier. With the celebrating, everyone seemed to have forgotten the rules and magic was being performed everywhere. Emma was done now. She wanted to go home, away from these horrible magicals.

'Oh, I am glad I'm not on duty.' muttered Mr Weasley as they all squeezed into their main tent. 'I wouldn't fancy having to go and tell the Irish to stop celebrating.'

They could hear the noise even from within the closed tent, two fields away. It was so noisy that Mr Weasley let them all stay up a little longer while they discussed the game. Emma just hid herself and left, escaping to the girls' tent alone, to read.

She was joined a bit later by Hermione, who sat next to her on a tiny couch, and Ginny who got changed into her pyjamas and went straight to bed.

'You've hated it here, haven't you?' asked Hermione, in a whisper.

'Not all of it.' shrugged Emma, sulking.

'But most of it?' added Hermione, with a wry smile.

When Emma just nodded, Hermione reached to take one of Emma's hands in her own.

'I'm sorry I made you come here.' she said, softly, guiltily.

'Did you enjoy the game?' asked Emma, fighting every instinct to edge any closer to Hermione.

'The game, yes, I did.' nodded Hermione, frowning. 'Little else, though.'

'Then it was worth it.' replied Emma, forcing a smile on her face. 'You should get some sleep.'

Hermione nodded silently, squeezed her hand once and got up, retiring to the bedroom.

'Night, Em.' she said, softly.

'Night, Mia.'


	5. Chapter 5 - Magicals

**Chapter 5 - … Magicals**

Emma, wanting to get some air, and space, away from her thoughts, and Hermione, left the tent and sat outside the front opening. Ruefully, she watched as the campsite began to wind down in some areas as families turned in for the night. Some extinguished their fires, others didn't. It made it difficult to see some parts of the fields, interfering with her night vision, but what she could see was interesting enough.

Not paying a lot of attention, she wasn't sure how long she'd sat there before a quick flash of light caught her eyes. In a far corner of one of the fields was a group of people, too obscure to make out, casting magic and moving in the direction of the woods. Curiously, people in tents nearby were running from them.

When another flash went off and what appeared to be a tent was sent spinning in the air and landed a ways away, Emma ran to the boys' tent, to Mr Weasley, to wake him up.

'Mr Weasley, sir.' she whispered, loudly, shaking him awake.

'What's the matter, Emma?' he asked, groggily, not noticing her anxious face.

'Sir, something's going on outside you should see.' she said, urgently, pulling him.

He followed her, stooping to exit the tent and look over to where Emma was pointing. The group of people had gotten a tiny bit closer, but now they were in the light of a fire, and Emma could see they were masked and hooded.

'What's going on?' he asked, alert now, seeing the flashes of spells being cast. 'I can't quite-'

'Let me help.' said Emma, reaching out a hand.

Emma touched a finger to Mr Weasley's temple to help her focus on him, and projected her vision to him. Immediately there was a sharp intake of breath as Mr Weasley gasped and stumbled back a pace. At first, she thought it was the suddenness of her vision, but it wasn't.

'Death Eaters.' he mumbled, so quietly that Emma wasn't even sure that's what he'd said, before raising his voice. 'Wake Ginny and Hermione!'

With that he stooped again into the boys tent, and he began shouting, loudly, for the others to get up. There was clearly an edge of fear to his tone and Emma did as she was told, running back to the girls' tent.

Once she was in the bedroom, she saw Hermione asleep in the bottom bunk of one of the beds, while Ginny was in the top bunk of the other. Emma ran to Ginny's bed, stepped on the lower bunk and reached up to shake her, with some difficulty given how short she was. While crossing the room to get there, though, she shouted in her head for Hermione to wake up and pushed that thought into her mind. By the time Emma had managed to shake Ginny awake, Hermione had already rolled out of bed and slipped on a pair of jeans underneath her nightdress and was putting on her shoes.

'What's wrong?' she asked, tired but alert from the rude awakening.

'Something's going on outside, Mr Weasley's worried.' she said hurriedly, leaving the room. 'Ginny, get some shoes on.'

'And a jacket.' added Hermione, grabbing hers and walking quickly outside after Emma.

Together they could see the band of Death Eaters still heading their way, toward the woods, only, now they could see figures floating above them. One of them looked like Mr Roberts, and the others were presumably his wife and young children.

Soon, Hermione and Emma were joined by Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George.

'That's sick.' muttered Ron, seeing this too. 'That's really sick.'

One of the Death Eaters had turned Mrs Roberts upside-down so that her nightdress fell down, showing her underwear, while another had begun to spin one of the children around like a spinning top, all about sixty feet up in the air. This was in addition to them continuing to destroy tents and starting fires, causing absolute chaos, people running and screaming in all directions.

Emma could hear the masked wizards laugh and holler, and she began to lose her calm. Her face became a grimace, she felt her claws extend, and she let out a low growl.

Hermione, turning to see this happen, suddenly stepped up to Emma, and thrust her hands out, palms over Emma's eyes.

'Emma! Calm down!' she hissed, very quietly. 'Your eyes are glowing! Someone might see you!'

'I'm going to kill them!' replied Emma, in an even lower growl.

Hermione was going to say something, but just then Mr Weasley, Bill, Charlie and Percy left the tent.

'We're going to help the Ministry.' shouted Mr Weasley, over the noise, rolling up his sleeves. 'You lot, get into the woods, and _stick together_. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!'

Bill, Charlie and Percy had already begun running, closely followed by Mr Weasley. Other Ministry wizards were running in that direction too.

'C'mon.' said Fred, grabbing Ginny's hand and pulling her toward the woods, joined by George.

Meanwhile, Emma was still fuming, delaying her, Hermione, Harry and Ron.

'Close your eyes.' commanded Hermione, when the others were far enough away. 'Now!'

Emma couldn't help it. Hermione sounded cross, so she did what she was told, suddenly very guilty. Feeling Emma's eyelashes brush against her palms, Hermione took her hands away, and shook her head. For just a split-second, she was smug, and hopeful, when she thought about how easily Emma gives in to her. Maybe Emma did feel the same way about her as she did for the vampire. That was too much to hope for, however, and now certainly wasn't the time.

'Let's go!' shouted Harry, pulling Emma's arm.

Together, the other three led Emma in to the dark forest, but even without sight, she fared better than the others. Not even one minute into the trees, Ron fell over, flat onto his face.

'What happened?' said Hermione, anxiously, stopping too quickly, making Harry walk into her. 'Ron, _where_ are you? Oh, this is stupid, _Lumos!_'

Emma saw a faint light through her eyelids as Hermione's wand lit up.

'Tripped over a tree-root.' he said, angrily, getting to his feet.

'Well, with feet that size, hard not to.' said an unmistakable drawling voice.

Harry and Ron turned angrily to the sound, but Hermione meant to grab Emma's arm, except, she was no longer at her side. She feared the worse and turned to Draco, trying hard to focus to see Emma.

Ron, not having noticed Emma's disappearance, told Draco to do something with a phrase he wouldn't have dared say in front of his mother.

'Language, Weasley.' said Malfoy, his eyes glittering, clearly enjoying himself. Time at home must have given him back a bit of his courage. 'Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like _her_ spotted, would you?'

He'd turned his head to Hermione, insinuating that she's a mudblood and the Death Eaters are there for Muggles. Hermione feared he'd say something like that, provoking Emma, and provoke he did.

There was a flash of red light, muted as it came from behind Draco, directly behind him. His eyes went slack, and he fell to the ground, out cold.

'I've been wanting to do that for years!' said Emma, stepping out from behind the tree Draco had been leaning on, her eyes and claws back to normal.

'Emma!' gasped Hermione and Ron in _very_ different tones.

'Well, at least you didn't kill him.' sighed Hermione, shrugging.

'I promised.' said Emma. 'He's right though, Mia. We really should be going. _Lumos!_'

Ron lit up his wand too, and Harry went to do the same, but, after frantically patting down his pockets, he started looking on the ground.

'Ah, no, I don't believe it! I've lost my wand!' he exclaimed.

'You're kidding?' said Ron.

They raised their wands high, and looked around, but couldn't see it.

'Maybe it's back in the tent?' suggested Ron.

'Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?' said Hermione.

Emma just stepped up to Draco, took his wand and passed it to Harry.

'What?' she asked, when Harry turned his nose up at it. 'He's not going to need it, his dad is probably one of those masked people, but you might.'

Frowning, Harry grudgingly accepted it and cast _Lumos_ too. The wand resisted him at first, but it did work after a few attempts.

Now, though, the four of them were far behind Ginny and the twins, and with all the people running by, it was too noisy and there were too many scents for Emma to be able to track them. They decided to follow the crowd and hope the others were far ahead enough to remain safe.

It wasn't long before the crowd thinned, spreading out throughout the woods, and soon the four of them were almost completely alone. They still bumped into some people, like a group of teenagers in pyjamas, arguing in French amongst themselves.

'_Où est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue-_' asked one of them when they approached.

'Er - what?' asked Ron.

'Oh...' said the girl, turning away and ignoring them. ''Ogwarts.'

'Must be Beauxbatons.' said Hermione, to Emma, who nodded.

'Sorry?' asked Harry, and the two of them had to explain about other schools.

The next encounter startled them at first, even Emma. There was a sudden rustling sound further in the woods and out walked Winky, though she looked odd. Her walk was strained, as if she was struggling against something invisible.

'There is bad wizards about!' she squeaked. 'People high - high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!'

And on she continued with her peculiar walk, mumbling to herself.

'What's up with her?' asked Ron, staring at where she vanished. 'Why can't she run properly?'

'Probably she didn't ask permission to hide.' said Harry.

'That's absolutely barbaric!' hissed Hermione. 'It's slavery, that's what it is! That Mr Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified! Now he's got her bewitched so she can't even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn't someone _do_ something about it.'

Emma just kicked a rock, too annoyed to speak.

'Well, the elves are happy, aren't they?' said Ron. 'You heard old Winky back at the match... "House-elves is not supposed to have fun"... that's what she likes, being bossed around.'

'Did it look like she was happy to you?' growled Emma, glaring at him. 'Did she look like she was enjoying herself at the match? Of course, you weren't paying any attention to her, were you?'

Emma let out an angry huff and kicked another rock to stop herself hitting Ron.

'It's people like _you_, Ron,' hissed Hermione, furious. 'who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they're too lazy to-'

Too lazy to do what, they never knew. At that moment they heard another loud bang near the edge of the woods.

'Let's just keep moving, shall we?' said Ron, meekly, under the girls' glares.

Emma, at least, was a bit distracted now. Draco had probably been right about the masked wizards, the Death Eaters, that they would want to hurt Hermione, and other muggle-borns, most of all. The four of them set off again with very little more interaction.

Along the way they passed a group of goblins, cackling over a sack of gold, who looked really at ease with the current events. Next they found a clearing with a Veela and a number of men bragging about ridiculous things. Even Ron tried, caught by the charm, and they had to drag him away. As they were leaving, Emma heard one brag that he'd killed about ninety vampires. It took a very firm tug and a telling off from Hermione to drag her away without harming anyone.

'Do you really think one of the hunters after you would be stupid enough to fall for a Veela?' she'd asked, and Emma had to concede to her logic.

By the time the Veela and her admirers were out of earshot, they appeared to be in the densest part of the wood, and they seemed to be alone, except one other.

'Mr Bagman?' asked Emma, to a tree, getting stares from Harry and Ron.

'Who's that?' he said, blinking down at them after stepping out from behind the tree. 'What are you doing in here, all alone?'

He looked rough, pale and strained, dejected even. Emma, Hermione, Harry and Ron looked at each other, confused and surprised.

'Well, there's sort of a riot going on.' said Ron.

'What?' said Ludo, staring blankly.

'On the campsite... some people have got hold of a family of Muggles!' said Hermione, angrily.

'Damn them!' he swore, loudly, and without a second glance, disapparated.

'Useless!' spat Emma. 'Worse than useless! He should be ashamed of himself!'

'He was a great Beater, though.' said Ron.

'Oh, of course, that makes everything better, doesn't it?' hissed Emma, sarcastically.

Hermione put her hand out to hold Emma's, to calm her again, and they gave each other a sad stare. Emma hated being this angry and venomous, but she couldn't help it. This whole experience had been awful.

'Let's settle here.' said Harry, trying to defuse the situation. 'We'll hear anyone coming a mile off.'

Ron sat down and put his Krum figurine on the floor, watching it waddle around, while Hermione pulled Emma to sit next to a tree, next to her and away from Ron, and held her hand tightly. Harry, however, continued standing, keeping an ear out.

'I hope the others are OK.' said Hermione, after a while.

'They'll be fine.' said Ron, automatically.

'Imagine if your dad catches Lucius Malfoy.' said Harry, smirking, finally sitting next to Ron. 'He's always said he'd like to get him on something.'

'Those poor Muggles, though.' sighed Hermione. 'What if they couldn't get them down safely?'

'I'm sure they will.' said Ron. 'Or have.' he added.

'Mad, though, to do something like that when the whole Ministry of Magic's out here tonight.' said Harry. 'I mean, how do they expect to get away with it?'

'Shh.' hissed Emma.

She heard footsteps heading their direction, still a fair distance off and held up a finger on her free hand, then pointed that way. At first the other three couldn't hear anything, but then Harry's eyes went wide as he heard a rustling.

The footsteps were heavy, like they were stumbling, or limping, and they got closer every passing second.

'Hello?' asked Harry, to the void of darkness.

The stumbling stopped dead and then there was only silence, even to Emma.

'Who's there?' repeated Harry.

The only reply they got was a loud, deep but reedy, incantation.

'_MORSMORDRE!_'

Something vast, green and glittering shot into the sky and Emma's heart sunk. Both she and Hermione shot up from the floor, and Emma grabbed Harry by the shirt and began tugging him away, quickly helped by Hermione as she reached him too.

'Run!' she hissed, quietly, still pulling.

'Wha-?' exclaimed Harry, resisting, but Emma covered his mouth, and they pulled harder, helped now by Ron.

'_Run you idiot! That's HIS mark!_' she yelled, this time only into his mind.

Up in the sky was an image unmistakable to anyone who had read as many books as Hermione and Emma had. A colossal skull made of green lights, with a snake for a tongue. The Dark Mark, in all its horrid glory, growing larger and rising in the sky with every passing second, and causing a chorus of screams throughout the woods.

Before they got very far, thanks to Harry's resisting, they heard a multitude of popping sounds and Emma heard the heartbeats of over twenty people suddenly appear.

'DUCK!' yelled Harry, seizing Ron, and pulling him to the ground. Emma had already been ahead of him, falling on purpose and taking Hermione with her.

'_STUPEFY!_' roared all twenty or so wizards.

Suddenly, the forest was lit up with blinding red flashes in all directions and Emma felt more than one graze past her back, narrowly missing her. The stunning charms continued for a second or two, bouncing off the tree-trunks and shooting off into the darkness.

'Stop!' yelled Mr Weasley's voice. 'STOP! _That's my son!_'

The flashes died down, and then Mr Weasley was running to them, looking far more terrified than earlier.

'Ron - Harry -' he said, voice shaking. 'Hermione - Emma - are you all right?'

'Out of the way, Arthur.' said the cold, curt voice of Barty Crouch, as he and all the other Ministry wizards surrounded them.

Emma felt like this was a repeat of the scene at her mother's death, trapped by angry wizards, all pointing wands in her direction, and she was overcome with a paralysing fear, unable to do anything but shake. She couldn't kill that many wizards to protect herself, even if she wanted to.

'Which of you did it?' snapped Crouch, his sharp eyes inspecting all four of them. 'Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?'

'We didn't do that!' said Harry, emphatically, gesturing to the skull in the air.

'We didn't do anything! What did you want to attack us for?' complained Ron, rubbing his elbow.

'Do not lie, sir!' shouted Crouch, his eyes bulging like a madman. 'You've been discovered at the scene of the crime!'

'Barty.' whispered a witch in a woollen dressing-gown. 'they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to-'

'Where did the Mark come from, you four?' said Mr Weasley, quickly.

'Over there.' said Hermione, also shaking like a leaf, pointing to where they'd heard the voice.

There was a little back and forth, Crouch not believing Hermione, but all the others did. A few minutes later, they heard Amos Diggory call out.

'Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's - but - blimey...'

As the adults moved and turned their attention away, Emma felt herself freed from her panic.

'You've got someone?' shouted Crouch, turning away, sounding disbelieving. 'Who? Who is it?'

Thinking quickly, while no eyes were on them, she hissed to Harry.

'Give me Draco's wand. No discussion.'

He turned to question her.

'No discussion! Give it. Now!'

He handed it over, confused, then surprised, then understanding, as Emma chucked it with all her might into the darkness of the trees. It would not do for Harry to be found with someone else's wand, least of all a Malfoy's.

Moments later, Amos Diggory returned into the clearing, carrying a small limp figure, Winky, in her off-white tea-towel.

'No!' yelled Emma, anger replacing her fear. 'It wasn't her! It wasn't Winky! It was a man's voice, deep. Winky couldn't have!'

'There was no-one else.' said Amos, gravely.

'This - cannot - be.' said Crouch, jerkily. 'No-'

All the Ministry members just looked on in silence as Barty Crouch went to look for someone else. At first Emma thought he believed her, but she already knew him to be a cruel man.

'Bit embarrassing!' said Amos. 'Barty Crouch's house-elf... I mean to say...'

'Come off it, Amos, you don't seriously think it was the elf? Emma said as much, and the Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand.' said Mr Weasley.

'Yeah, and she _had_ a wand.' replied Amos.

'_What?_' gasped Mr Weasley.

'Here, look.' said Amos, holding something up, hidden behind Mr Weasley. 'Had it in her hand. So that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken for a start. _No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand_.'

'But she didn't do it!' pleaded Hermione. 'It wasn't her!'

'If it's all right with you, Mr Crouch, I think we should hear what she has to say for herself.'

Barty gave no indication he had even heard Amos, pacing around still. Amos took that as an OK and used the _Rennervate_ revive charm on her. She stirred slowly, blinking a few times and sat up, looking around at the crowd of wizards, and then up to the Dark Mark. It shone in the reflections of her two large glassy eyes.

'Elf!' said Amos. 'Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!'

Winky quickly began rocking backward and forward, terrified, her breathing coming in gasps, and Emma really wanted to help her. This wasn't going to go well, knowing magicals.

'As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago,' said Amos, continuing. 'and you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation if you please!'

'I - I - I is not doing it, sir!' squeaked Winky. 'I is not knowing how, sir!'

'You were found with a wand in your hand!' barked Amos, brandishing it.

'Hey, that's mine.' yelled Harry.

'Excuse me?' asked Amos, stunned, as the whole group of wizards looked to Harry.

'That's my wand!' repeated Harry. 'I dropped it!'

Amos accused Harry, but Mr Weasley was quick to remind him who Harry was, and he let it go.

'I didn't drop it there, anyway.' said Harry. 'I missed it right after we got into the wood.'

'So.' continued Amos, eyes hardening. 'You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, didn't you?'

'SHE. DIDN'T. DO. IT!' screamed Emma. 'Why won't you listen?'

'Quiet, girl!' commanded Amos, condescendingly. 'This doesn't concern you.'

Hermione pulled and turned Emma away, and took her hand again.

'They won't listen to us.' she said, quietly, hysterically, begging. 'Don't show yourself, please! Calm down, _please_.'

'I is not doing magic with it, sir!' squeaked Winky, tears streaming down her face, making Emma and Hermione hug, terrified for her welfare. 'I is... I is... I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!'

'Well, we'll soon see.' growled Amos, unimpressed, heartless. 'There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that? _Priori Incantato!_'

They heard gasps from the Ministry wizards as a second, duplicate Dark Mark appeared, ghostly in appearance.

'_Deletrius!_' incanted Amos, making the copy vanish.

'So.' he said, with savage triumph, looking down at Winky, who was now shaking convulsively.

'I is not doing it!' she squealed. 'I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!'

'You've been caught red-handed, elf!' roared Amos. '_Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!_'

Emma had to stop and cover her ears. She was crying almost as much as Winky, and her _'I is not'_s were breaking her heart. She was so close to losing it and killing Amos right there. He was treating Winky like a wild rabid beast. Beside Emma, Hermione wasn't faring any better either.

A new shriek broke through though, some time later.

'No, master!' screamed Winky. 'Not clothes, not clothes!'

'But she was frightened!' burst Hermione, tears in her eyes and anger in her voice, glaring at Crouch. 'Winky is scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!'

'I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me.' he said icily, staring at Hermione. 'I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation.'

Winky was crying so hard, her sobs were echoing around the clearing.

'You are a cruel and sadistic man, _sir_.' said Emma with unadulterated hate.

And with that, she left, unable to take any more. She _was_ going to kill someone if she stayed a moment longer.

'Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent, if nobodies' got any objections.' said Mr Weasley, uncomfortably. 'Amos, that wand's told us all it can - if Harry could have it back, please.'

Amos handed it over and Mr Weasley practically pushed Ron and Harry away, Hermione already going after Emma.

'What's going to happen to Winky?' asked Hermione, sobbing.

'I don't know.' said Mr Weasley.

'The way they were treating her!' she gasped, her breath hitching in her throat. 'Mr Diggory calling her "elf" all the time... and Mr Crouch! He knows she didn't do it, and he's still going to sack her! He didn't even care how frightened she'd been, or how upset she was - it was like she wasn't even human!'

'Well, she's not.' said Ron.

'_WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?_' shouted Emma, rushing right up to him, face to face, or as close as she could with him being so much taller than her.

Her claws were out at the ready, and her eyes were glowing brighter and greener than ever before. She looked like one wrong word would be fatal, and Ron looked suitably afraid, cowering away from her.

'Emma!' warned Mr Weasley, firmly, his wand out.

Of course, Emma ignored him, but not the gentle hand of Hermione on her arm, tugging her away.

'It doesn't mean she hasn't got feelings, Ron. It's disgusting the way-'

'I agree with you, _both_ of you.' said Mr Weasley, looking to the girls and lowering his wand again, though still cautious. 'But now is not the time to discuss elf rights. I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to the others?'

'We lost them in the dark.' said Harry, pausing. 'Why was everyone so worried about that skull thing?'

'I'll explain everything back at the tent.' replied Mr Weasley, tensely.


	6. Chapter 6 - Aftermath

**Chapter 6 - Aftermath**

Emma, Hermione, Harry and Ron followed Mr Weasley back to the edge of the forest in silence. Emma and Hermione were just too upset and angry, and simply held hands. It was quite peaceful and scenic at this point. The Dark Mark had scared everyone out of the woods and the five of them were alone, at least until they got to the campsite.

A large crowd of very frightened-looking witches and wizards had congregated at the edge of the woods, blocking the way. They were all very curious and concerned.

'What's going on in there?'

'Who conjured it?'

'Arthur - it's not - _him_?'

Many more questions were asked but Mr Weasley interrupted them.

'Of course it's not him.' he said, impatiently. 'We don't know who it was, it looks like they disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed.'

The crowd parted for them, put out at Mr Weasley's curt reply, and they continued to the Weasley's tent.

'Dad, what's going on?' asked Charlie, his head sticking out of the boys' tent. 'Fred, George and Ginny got back OK, but the others?'

'I've got them here.' replied Mr Weasley, gesturing a thumb behind him and then ducking inside, following Charlie.

Emma was the last in, and what she saw startled her a little, until her Healer training kicked in. Percy's nose was bleeding quite heavily, and Bill had a very red-stained bedsheet wrapped around his arm. The room was absolutely saturated with the smell of blood, but she'd gotten used to that by now, having spent so long in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts.

While the others started talking about what happened, Emma bustled over to Bill who was sitting at the kitchen table and passed Percy on the way.

'_Episkey!_' said Emma, clearly, tapping her wand on Percy's nose as she passed, with no attempt at being gentle.

There was an audible crack as his nose fixed and the bleeding stopped. Emma then tapped Bill's hand, incanting a couple of spells. One to determine what might be wrong with him besides a severe cut, and the other to stem the bleeding, so she could look at it without him losing all his blood. Apart from risking his life, it would be annoyingly distracting.

'Let me see.' she told him, in her best Madam Pomfrey impression.

Bill eyed her curiously with a smile, and pulled the bedsheet away, revealing a nasty, deep gash on his arm, and despite the spell to slow the bleeding, it was still dripping onto the table, slowly.

'I'm not going to be able to do a lot without potions.' said Emma, frowning. 'But I can make it better until you can get it seen to properly.'

She then proceeded to use every bit of learning she had to fix up the wound as best she could, as well as making sure it was cleaned.

'How do you know all that?' asked Bill, still smiling at her, intrigued.

'She apprenticed under Madam Pomfrey, last year.' said Hermione, proudly.

Emma blushed and continued her work, but Bill's eyes raised, clearly impressed.

Eventually she'd finished, the wound much better than before, but still in bad shape. He'd obviously been hit by a pretty bad curse or jinx. Bill tried pulling the bedsheet back onto his arm, but Emma stopped him.

'And undo all my nice work?' she asked, shaking her head. '_Ferula!_'

When she incanted that spell, magical bandages appeared out of thin air, and as she spun and looped her wand, the bandages wrapped themselves tightly around his arm.

'There.' she said, satisfied. 'Get that seen to properly tomorrow. Whatever caused it was nasty.'

'Thank you.' he said, smirking. 'I will.'

Getting hurt and treated didn't seem to be a new experience for him, he was just so calm. Perhaps it's an all too common occurrence for a Gringotts' Curse-Breaker.

Luckily for Percy, Emma had been too preoccupied with healing Bill that she'd completely missed him trying to justify Barty's treatment of Winky, and the ensuing argument with Hermione. She also missed what they'd said about the Dark Mark.

'But what were Voldemort's supporters-' said Harry, pausing because all the Weasley's flinched at the name. 'Sorry. You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?'

'The point?' replied Mr Weasley, with a hollow laugh. 'Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large...'

Emma had enough, she didn't like this topic and caught Hermione's attention, nudging her head to the door. Hermione nodded back.

'I'm going to go back to bed now, I think.' interrupted Hermione, yawning for emphasis.

'Yes, you're right, it's very late, and if Molly hears what's happened she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours' sleep and then try to get an early Portkey out of here.'

Emma, Hermione and Ginny returned to the girls' tent. Ginny shrugged off her jacket and shoes and fell into the lower bunk of her bed, instead of returning to the top. She was asleep right-away.

Hermione, meanwhile, methodically removed her shoes and her jeans, slowly, as if preoccupied.

'Emma?' she asked, tentatively. 'Can you - can - can you stay... stay nearby while I fall asleep... please?'

She looked upset, scared, embarrassed, all things Emma was feeling too, and throwing caution to the wind, too upset to care, Emma pulled Hermione into a tight hug, and together they cried again for a little while. It wasn't long before Hermione practically fell asleep in Emma's arms.

It felt like no time at all when, after putting Hermione in bed, Emma was being called by Mr Weasley from outside the tent. She got up from the floor beside Hermione's bed and gingerly separated their entwined hands, and went outside.

'Ah, Emma.' he said, his face furrowed seriously. 'I wanted to let you know that I understand why you behaved the way you did today. It couldn't have been easy for you to see that, given...'

He gestured his hands toward her, trying to avoid saying the word _vampire_.

'However, I do _not_ appreciate the way you threatened my son, Ron-'

'Believe me, sir, I don't like being that angry any more than you do.' said Emma, interrupting him. 'But I will try not to do that again.'

Mr Weasley nodded, his mood lightening. He was a really kind man, considering he was a Magical, and a Ministry employee.

'I also wanted to thank you for warning me about the Death Eaters. I dread to think what might have happened had we delayed any longer.'

'Uhm... that's all right.' said Emma, shrugging, embarrassed.

'And I appreciate you taking the time to heal Bill and Percy. That was very good of you.' he added. 'I'll make sure Molly knows, I know she hasn't been as welcoming as she could be.'

'I was just doing what I was trained to.' said Emma, ducking her head and stepping back, the praise making her very uncomfortable.

'Yes, well...' said Mr Weasley, after an awkward pause. 'We'll be leaving soon, so could you kindly wake Ginny and Hermione again, please.'

'Yes, sir.'

It took a little while to wake the girls, for the three of them to get dressed, or in Emma's case, to get changed, and finally to pack everything away. When the tents were vacated, Mr Weasley didn't waste any time and packed them up with magic in an instant. Evidently, he was in a rush, and they followed him in despondent silence to the Portkeys.

On the way, they passed Mr Roberts' cottage again. The man himself had no injuries, at least not physically, but he was obviously confused, wishing them a 'Merry Christmas'. He'd been _Obliviated_ again, but much more extensively than the last time. Mr Weasley insisted he'd be fine, that it was a big event they'd had to make him forget. Emma couldn't help but hope that Mr Roberts never meets another magical in his life. They'd been nothing but trouble for him.

Emma was distracted a moment later by raised voices coming from a crowd of people of the same mind as Mr Weasley, all having decided to leave as early as possible, and they were clambering to get their Portkey. Mr Weasley joined them and quickly managed to get his. Being a Ministry official must have its perks.

They took the Portkey back to Stoatshead Hill and walked through Ottery St. Catchpole again.

'Oh, thank goodness, thank goodness!' cried Mrs Weasley, from the Burrow's front yard, when they came into view.

She ran toward the group, her face pale and strained, with a newspaper clutched in her hand.

'Arthur - I've been so worried - so _worried_-' she said, flinging her arms around him. 'You're all right... you're alive... oh, _boys_...'

She surprised everyone when she released Mr Weasley and pulled the twins into such a tight embrace, she knocked their heads together. Emma just shook her head and followed Mr Weasley into the house.

They all gathered around the kitchen table, cramming themselves in wherever there was space, some nursing strong tea, others a bit of Firewhiskey. They were all quiet as Mr Weasley read the newspaper.

'I knew it.' he said, with a hint of anger. '_Ministry blunders... culprit not apprehended... lax security... Dark wizards running unchecked... national disgrace..._ Who wrote this? Ah... of course... Rita Skeeter.'

'That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!' said Percy, furiously. 'Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't _specifically_ stated in paragraph twelve of the _Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans_-'

When he said vampires, over half the room looked to Emma, and curiously, Bill was one of them. The only ones who didn't look were Ginny, Fred, George, Percy and Charlie. Emma couldn't stand the looks of pity from the humans, or the reminder of how few rights she had, and simply left the room without a single word.

'Do us a favour, Perce,' said Bill, forcefully, before Emma had gone far. 'and shut up.'

Emma trudged up to Ginny's room, dumped her bag on her bed and sat down, sulking. It had been a while since she'd heard the words '_Non-Wizard Part-Human_'. The ones that made her feel less-than, inferior.

Hermione poked her head in a few minutes later to drop off her bag too, and to let Emma know that Harry wanted to talk upstairs. Together they followed the boys to Ron's room.

'What's up, Harry?' asked Ron when Emma shut his bedroom door behind her.

'There's something I haven't told you.' said Harry. 'On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again.'

Hermione gasped and suggested he get it seen by Dumbledore and Pomfrey, when they return to school, and for Emma to take a quick look at it now. Ron just looked dumbstruck.

'But - he wasn't there - was he? You-Know-Who?' he stuttered. 'I mean - last-time your scar kept hurting, he was at Hogwarts, wasn't he?'

'I'm sure he wasn't at Privet Drive.' said Harry. 'But I was dreaming about him... him and Peter - you know, Wormtail. I can't remember all of it now, but they were plotting to kill... someone.'

'What reason does he want you dead for now? Last time it was the stone...' wondered Emma, indicating for Harry to lean down, so she could prod his scar. 'Revenge?'

'I didn't say it was me.' retorted Harry, defensively, pulling away.

'You're a bad liar, Harry.' complained Emma. 'Now, hold still.'

'It was only a dream, though, right?' said Ron, nervously. 'Just a nightmare?'

'Yeah, but was it, though?' replied Harry, frowning at Emma and Ron. 'It's weird, isn't it... my scar hurts, and three days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again.'

'Don't - say - his - name!' hissed Ron.

'Hermione, his scar seems fine.' interrupted Emma, stepping away from Harry in defeat. 'I don't know how I could tell if it wasn't though...'

'And remember what Professor Trelawney said?' added Harry, ignoring Emma, thankful she'd stopped her impromptu exam. 'At the end of last year?'

'Oh, Harry... you aren't going to pay any attention to anything that old fraud says, are you?'

'You weren't there, you didn't hear her.' insisted Harry, quickly. 'This time was different. I told you, she went into a trance, a real one, after my exam with her-'

Emma frowned, she'd never heard this. She racked her brain for a second before remembering.

'You never told us.' said Emma, reminding him. 'You were going to, but we told you we'd just learned Buckbeak was going to be executed.'

'Oh...' said Harry, momentarily confused. 'Oh, well... she said the Dark Lord would rise again... _greater and more terrible than ever before_... and he'd manage it because his servant was going to go back to him... and that night Wormtail escaped.'

There was a deep silence where Ron fidgeted, Hermione looked to Emma with disbelief, but Emma shrugged. It sounded like typical Trelawney from what little Emma knew of her, but Harry had a point. It was far too coincidental to not have some merit.

'Why were you asking if Hedwig had come, Harry?' asked Hermione, breaking the silence. 'Are you expecting a letter?'

'I told Sirius about my scar.' shrugged Harry. 'I'm waiting for his answer.'

'Good thinking!' said Ron, happily. 'I bet he'd know what to do!'

'I hoped he'd get back to me quickly.' said Harry.

'Good luck with that.' frowned Emma. 'We sent him a letter too, nearly two weeks ago, with Nephy, and she's still not back yet. I'm worried about her.'

'He could be in Africa for all we know.' said Hermione, placing a hand on Emma's shoulder, comfortingly. 'I'm sure Nephy is fine.'

'Yeah, I know...' said Harry, his mood darkening as Emma nodded solemnly.

'Come and have a game of Quidditch in the orchard, Harry.' said Ron, suddenly. 'Come on, three on three. Bill and Charlie and Fred and George will play... you can try out the Wronski Feint...'

'Ron!' snapped Hermione, thinking he was being insensitive. 'Harry doesn't want to play Quidditch right now... he's worried and tired... we all need to go to bed...'

'Yeah, I want to play Quidditch.' said Harry. 'Hang on, I'll get my Firebolt.'

Emma just left the room without even a backward glance, shaking her head in dismay, while Hermione muttered '_Boys!_' with a sigh.

Emma and Hermione returned to Ginny's bedroom where Hermione caught some much-needed sleep, and Emma sat cross-legged next to her. She was scared. The World Cup was over and Emma had told herself she'd wait until after, to tell Hermione how she felt, but now it was time, she just couldn't pluck up the courage. Not only that, but Hermione had been really nice to her at the World Cup. She'd behaved much like a sister or close friend, comforting her, protecting her, chiding her. The glimmer of hope that Emma felt, that Hermione might feel the same way, had been blown out. No, things were much better as they are. To distract herself, and fulfil a promise, Emma began penning a letter to Richard and Jane, letting them know the two of them were safe, as well as everything that happened. From Emma's perspective, it couldn't have gone much worse, and she knew it would look bad, so she tried to tone her attitude down a little. She left room for Hermione to add her own words at the end after she woke, they then sealed it in an envelope and put a first-class stamp on it. Without Nephthys or Hedwig, and absolutely refusing to use Errol, Muggle post was their only option.

Over the following week, their last before returning to Hogwarts, the two of them visited Ottery St. Catchpole to post their letter, generally explore and look around. They also read the rest of their books in the Weasley's living room. Mrs Weasley's opinion toward Emma improved substantially overnight, clearly having been told about her healing Bill and Percy, but also because she finally received a response from Professor Dumbledore. Ginny continued to make herself scarce, so much so that Emma and Hermione rarely saw her, and neither could figure out why. The twins sequestered themselves away as well, but they were clearly scheming something, and were keen to prevent their mother finding out. Harry and Ron played Quidditch most days, so they were always around the orchard.

Mr Weasley and Percy, however, were now rarely there at all, owing to the chaos at the Ministry caused by the events at the Quidditch World Cup. People complaining about the security, or claiming compensation for lost tents, some fraudulently. Even in the Weasley home there were arguments. When Percy was around, he would often defend Crouch's behaviour toward Winky, but Emma and Hermione were having none of it.

'Crouch is very lucky Rita Skeeter hasn't found out about Winky.' said Mr Weasley, one night, after returning late. 'There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark.'

'I thought we were all agreed that that elf-' started Percy, hotly.

'Winky!' interrupted Emma.

'-while irresponsible,' continued Percy, as if he'd heard nothing. 'did _not_ conjure the Mark?'

'If you ask me, Mr Crouch is very lucky no one at the _Daily Prophet_ knows how mean he is to elves!' added Hermione, angrily.

'Now, look here, Hermione!' replied Percy. 'A high-ranking official like Mr Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants-'

'His _slaves_, you mean!' spat Hermione, her voice going shrill.

'Just because you enjoy being treated like a slave, _Weatherby_, doesn't mean others should be forced to as well.' retorted Emma, icily.

'I think you'd all better go to bed now.' said Mrs Weasley, hurriedly, as Fred and George sniggered at Percy's stunned and beet-red face. 'Come on, now, all of you...'

A few days before they were due to leave the Burrow, the weather began to improve drastically. Gone was the bright, burning sunshine and in were the thick clouds and pouring rain. Emma could finally enjoy being outside again without having to cover up.

Also an improvement, Nephthys finally returned one afternoon, while Emma and Hermione were reading alone in the Weasley's living room.

'Nephy!' squealed Emma, in delight, as the bird flew in the window. She picked her up and gave her the biggest hug and kisses. 'I missed you, so much! You were gone so long! Where did you go? Did you have fun?'

Emma and Nephthys entered into one of their long conversations that Hermione didn't really understand, with the vampire giving Nephthys lots of treats and more hugs. They were only briefly interrupted by Hermione, asking for the reply from Sirius, which she read while the other two were catching up.

'This is going to be complicated.' sighed Hermione.

They'd retired to Ginny's room after dinner, and Nephthys was asleep in her cage, resting after her long journey.

'Sirius agreed to help?' asked Emma.

'Agreed?' asked Hermione, not sure whether to be cross or pleased with Sirius. 'If anything he seems far too eager. He says Harry's father would be disappointed if his son never learned how to be an Animagus.'

'I guess we should be thankful.' said Emma, smiling. 'Him and Remus are probably the only two we could have asked who wouldn't force the three of you to register.'

'Yeah...' nodded Hermione. 'I would have thought he'd think twice about letting us do something that could put us in Azkaban, though.'

'I bet that didn't even cross his mind.' said Emma. 'He doesn't seem the sort to worry about consequences.'

'Just like Harry and Ron.' sighed Hermione, shaking her head, both amused and concerned.

'Regretting asking now?' giggled Emma. 'You could just not tell them.'

'No, that wouldn't be fair.' smiled Hermione. 'But I do wonder if they'll try hard enough to get the transformation to work. It's _really_ convoluted, and it could get _very_ expensive.'

'What will you have to do?' asked Emma.

Hermione passed over the letter and went through it with her. The first things they needed were a Mandrake leaf, each, that they had to keep in their mouth for a month. It had to be placed in their mouth and taken out again during a full moon. If it's taken out before its time, or swallowed, they have to start again. If they don't stand in direct moonlight, the leaf won't work, and they'll have to start again.

During that first month, they'll have to collect fresh dew into vials and store it away from sunlight, and human feet, for at least one week, or the dew won't work. At the end of the month they combine the Mandrake leaf, a strand of their hair, the dew poured out with a silver spoon, and a Death's-Head Hawk Moth Chrysalis into a vial. Once prepared, they then use the contents of that vial as an ingredient in a potion. Thankfully that potion is far less complicated than the one for Polyjuice, and can be made in a few hours, assuming everything else worked.

Finally, once the potion is consumed, they will each have exactly one month to accomplish the transformation, or they will have to start all over again.

'So you need two clear full moon nights in a row, or clear enough to get a few minutes of direct moonlight, and you need to get the right conditions for dew to form a week or so before the second full moon?' asked Emma, bewildered. 'And that's on top of the three Mandrake leaves and Chrysalises?'

'Yeap.' said Hermione, nodding, equally uneasy. 'Sirius said it could have been worse though, if we'd followed the books. Apparently, they write that the potion must be taken during a thunderstorm, within a month of brewing it or it becomes inert. He says that's nonsense, though.'

Emma read further on the letter where Sirius described them waiting for a thunderstorm and not getting one, and instead of starting again, they drank the potion before it became inert, to not waste it, and it still worked. He warns them that wizards are typically a superstitious bunch and sometimes unnecessary things become gospel. This was a particularly difficult idea to swallow for Hermione, that books could be wrong, but after everything that happened to them recently, she saw sense.

Sirius also wrote that the incantation, '_Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus_', only has to be recited while trying to transform, and not at any other time, something else he says the books will disagree with.

'No wonder it took them so long to transform.' said Emma. 'It could take all year just to get the full moons on clear enough nights, let alone the dew.'

'I don't really mind if it takes all year.' smiled Hermione. 'But the cost...'

'Mmhmm.' mumbled Emma. 'The Mandrake leaves are a couple of Galleons each, and the chrysalises... chrysalids? chrysalii? whatever... are six Galleons, from what I remember.'

'You were right the first time, it's _chrysalises_.' laughed Hermione. 'And the Mandrake leaves will be the worst part. We won't have to use the chrysalises if the full moons aren't clear, but we'll need new leaves and two new full moons.'

'But what if we manage to get the potion made and none of you are able to transform within the month? That's 24 Galleons down the drain.' said Emma, shaking her head.

'We'll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it.' said Hermione, matter of factly. 'Shall I write an order form for them now?'

'Just the leaves first.' replied Emma. 'Imagine what the apothecary will think seeing an order for three leaves and three chrysalises?'

'See, this is why I keep you around.' giggled Hermione, blushing, making Emma smirk.

Hermione was about to pull out some parchment and write the order, but Ginny opened the door then, it being nearly time for bed. She took one look at the girls, seeing them suddenly become embarrassed and shifty, as if she'd interrupted something. Her face went bright red, accompanied by a strange look, and immediately turned and left, to go to the bathroom.

Emma and Hermione stared at each other, perplexed, their suspicions confirmed. Ginny seemed to be avoiding them, and they still had no idea why.


End file.
